


Cocked Up

by lea_anberlyn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: EWE, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Weird sex magic, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 09:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_anberlyn/pseuds/lea_anberlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry is having very vivid dreams about sex. With Malfoy. Something is clearly Not Right and Harry is determined to get to the bottom of it, if only to give his aching libido a rest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cocked Up

**Author's Note:**

> So this started as an excuse for me to practice writing sex scenes. And then plot butted its head in and...Uhm…yeah. It spiralled away from me a bit…But there is still sex so yay for sex! :) About the title: a ‘cock up’ is British slang for a blunder/a mistake and I chose it for the double meaning too. Couldn’t resist really…

Cocked Up 

It always starts with Malfoy’s mouth around his cock.

Actually, that’s not true. _Most_ of the time it starts with Malfoy sucking his dick, there was that one time it had started with Malfoy giving him one of the best handjobs of his life. Well, in his dreams. 

So yeah, there was Malfoy like he sometimes was, on his knees with his mouth stretched out around Harry’s cock, his grey eyes glazed over – Harry assumes with lust but it could be drugs or potions for all he knows – and he’s moaning just a bit and he actually sounds pretty damn sexy. 

Harry knows – well, has been told – that he sounds like a testicular-challenged donkey when he moans during in sex so he tends to just pant a lot which seems to work just as well. Like now when he pants Malfoy moans even loader and the sucking gets that much more _stronger_ and fuck but it feels really good. 

Stupidly good and Harry thinks he may have blacked out a little there but its fine, it’s cool. His back is leaning against, well, a wall somewhere and Malfoy’s kind of holding him steady by gripping his thighs and resting his weight there and Malfoy’s mouth really is kind of amazing and _how_ did Harry never know this before? 

It’s wet and so _so_ hot and he leaves a glistening line of saliva behind when he pulls back, letting Harry’s cock fall out with a ‘pop’ as he looks up at Harry with those dazed, ‘fuck-me-Harry’ eyes, his mouth all red and swollen and there’s a trail of spit and what is most likely cum trailing down a corner of his mouth. His hair is all messy – Harry guiltily thinks it’s probably because his hands have been tugging Malfoy’s head this way and that – and some of it is sticking out in tufts and his cheeks are red and – Harry’s cock is throbbing because he doesn’t think he’s even seen such a seductive sight in his life. 

Malfoy – he should really think of him as Draco now shouldn’t he? What with the cock sucking and all – so, _Draco_ takes one hand from Harry’s thighs and uses it to push back his mussed hair, the dazed look fading just slightly from his eyes as he gives Harry a considering look. 

“Potter it’s time to get up now.” 

“I’m already up,” Harry insists, looking down at his cock which is standing quite proudly and – really, how can Malfoy ( _Draco, Draco_!) miss it when it’s pointing right at his face? 

But the man on the floor is scrunching up his nose, “It’s time to get up now,” he repeats, his voice almost monotone. 

“What the fuck Malfoy, you can’t stop there you fucking—”

* * *

“Prick,” Harry finished dumbly as he stared at his bleeping alarm clock. Scowling at it he slammed his hand down on the button, watching the numbers flash at him for a moment before groaning.

Pulling his knees up he let his head rest against them, fisting his hands in his hair and tugging at it to try and sort out the mess his mind had become. 

He’d had the stupid dream again. That stupid, stupid _wonderful_ dream. His cock was still throbbing so he let his knees fall and, with a sigh, lay back and thrust a hand into his boxers. 

He tugged at it almost irritably, wanting it over and annoyed at himself all over again for letting himself become so…so turned on. He’d promised himself – bloody well promised _Hermione_ come to that – that the moment he realised it was a dream he’d jolt himself out of sleep and calm down and then…and then get on with his life. 

He hadn’t though – he couldn’t, not when Malfoy was sucking him like that. Hell, no man could – especially one as celibate as Harry was. The only time he ever got any was in his dreams. With Malfoy. 

The moment the thought crossed his mind he grimaced. That, right there, was the problem. It wasn’t having sex dreams – hell he’d been having dreams of that kind since he’d first realised what his cock was actually for – but he’d never had dreams about Malfoy. Hell he’d never had dreams about men before, let alone Draco Bloody Malfoy! 

Growling to himself Harry had one last thought of begging grey eyes and mussed up hair and came all over his hand. He pulled his hand out, giving it a distasteful look before shucking out of his boxers, using them to wipe the evidence of his shame away and throwing them as far across the room as possible. When he’d finished he collapsed back onto his bed. 

God he was so screwed.

* * *

“Well mate, I hate to say it but you sound kind of screwed.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “Thanks Ron, you’re a great help.”

Ron nodded his head eagerly, “I know, thanks for noticing!” He laughed for a moment before sobering when Harry refused to laugh with him. Heaving a sigh he continued, “Look, this…uhr…Merlin’s beard Harry you’re having sex dreams about the ferret, I just can’t think seriously about this,” and he burst into tears of laughter again. 

Harry watched him with a clenched jaw, trying very hard not to yell at his best friend. Even when said best friend was being very annoying and not acting as a best friend should. So he was having sexual dreams about Malfoy – so what! He bet a lot of people did.

The flash of jealousy that came with that thought caused him to grind his fist into his forehead, trying to force the horrid thought out. 

“Screwed, screwed,” Ron was singing through the fire.

Harry glared at him, “If you’re not going to help me, you can kindly get lost Ron.” 

His friend’s eyes widened, “Blimey, you’re really upset about this aren’t you?”

“I’m having sexual fantasies about Draco Malfoy!”

“Okay, okay!” Ron replied, obviously trying to be soothing but Harry talked right over him.

“Every night for the past week, he’s all I dream about, I even have ruddy daydreams about the git! He’s just…I mean just the other day I was thinking about that new quill I bought and then all of a sudden he was just there, _doing_ things to it.” 

Ron quirked an eyebrow, “Doing what?”

“You don’t want to know,” Harry deadpanned. “Honestly, I had to throw the ruddy thing away when I got home it freaked me out so much.” 

Ron’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in an ‘oh’ sound. 

Harry sighed, picking at his sleeve, trying to think of anything but Malfoy’s pink lips and his tongue and—and he was hard again. 

Damn it. 

“Harry, you look like shit,” Ron finally said as the silence began to stretch between them.

Harry laughed—a rough sound that he soon stopped. “I feel like shit,” he admitted. 

“Right, well, you know what you’ve got to do then don’t you,” Ron replied. 

Harry lifted his head, feeling a flicker of hope that soon died at Ron’s next words.

“You have to talk to him.”

“ _Talk_ to him? And what do you suggest I say? ‘Hey Malfoy, I’ve been having a few dreams about the two of us having sex, how about we make it reality?’” 

Ron spluttered which made the the fire spit out at Harry. Pulling his knees out of harms way Harry waited for his friend to calm down. His face looked more red than usual – but then, that could just be the flames. 

“Give a guy some notice before you go and say a thing like that,” Ron finally managed, his face twisted in distaste. “I didn’t say you should go and—and _proposition_ —the git, I just think, you know, he might be able to help you.”

“How?” Harry asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Well he’s supposed to be this amazing Potions Master now,” Ron said. His tone said he thought otherwise but Harry knew that Ron was biased. 

“So he can…what? Make me a potion to stop having sex dreams?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but you can always ask.” Ron looked behind him and turned to give Harry one last commiserating look, “Look, I’ve got to go. George wants some help in the front—I’ll call you tonight to ask how it went. Good luck!” And he was gone.

Harry remained on the floor for a while, staring at the flames where his friend’s head had been floating. He didn’t really have a choice did he? It was just a question of how he was going to ask Malfoy without the git realising _why_ he was asking. 

God, he was still screwed.

* * *

Malfoy’s really good at sucking cock, Harry decides as his dick disappears once more into Malfoy’s very delicious mouth.

A hand has reached up and is tweaking his nipples and— _Oh God_ —pulls at them until he’s squirming and panting and—he really fucking wants more but he can’t talk, he can’t even moan around the pleasure building within him. 

The mouth leaves and Harry lets out a little groan only for the sound to be swallowed when a hot mouth slants over his, a slick tongue pushing against his lips for entrance, forcing its way inside. Harry opens his mouth eagerly, feeling almost pathetically happy when that tongue dances inside his mouth, curling around his own, tugging on to, pulling on it. It’s like sex inside his mouth and _hell_ he’s never been so turned on by a kiss before but his cock is throbbing and Malfoy’s pressed up against him, grinding his own cock into Harry’s thigh, leaving a trail behind and Harry is pushing back against him and he can’t stop it. 

Malfoy’s tongue leaves his and his mouth pulls away. He brings it back to whisper it against Harry’s lips before pressing small kisses against the edge of Harry’s mouth, leaving that to slide his way down Harry’s neck before pressing in against it and _sucking_ , in a spot that makes Harry’s eyes cross and his back arch and _oh fuck_ Malfoy’s hand is caressing his arse now, his finger lightly touching the crease.

Harry almost pulls back but that finger is pushing in and Malfoy’s mouth is dancing across his neck, and his other hand has come down to play with his dick again and—

* * *

And Harry jerked himself awake. 

“Fucking Malfoy!” He cursed loudly, looking down at the state of his jeans and groaning, rubbing roughly at his face before pushing away from the kitchen table and heading upstairs to get changed. 

He couldn’t even remember falling asleep – he’d had his talk with Ron, and then he’d got some breakfast after reminding Kreacher yet again that he could cook for himself, thanks – and then…and then what? 

Then he’d fallen into another wet dream. 

Frowning at himself Harry added his jeans and boxers to the growing pile of washing he’d have to do soon and grabbed another pair, pulling them on without much thought. 

By the time he’d finished he’d reached the decision he knew he should have come to a week ago when the whole thing first started – he was going to see Malfoy. One sex dream was fine, normal in fact – but seven nights worth, compiled with the fact that he was now falling asleep during the day to indulge in lurid acts with Malfoy – something was clearly going on. And he bet it was all Malfoy’s doing. 

After all – if it wasn’t Malfoy’s fault – well, Harry wasn’t yet ready to admit what that meant. He’d cross that bridge when he got to it, if he had to – which he wouldn’t because all of this was definitely Malfoy’s fault. 

Looking once more at his pile of dirty laundry Harry nodded decisively to himself, grabbing his cloak and throwing it over his shoulders, checking his wand was in his pocket and striding out of the room. He felt better than he had in days, his spirits lifting already just at the thought of confronting Malfoy. 

It was time to get some answers.

* * *

Harry only faltered when he was outside _Malfoy’s Magnificent Non-Malicious Mixtures_ , pulling up short just outside the door and staring through the glass in amazement. 

Ron hadn’t been joking when he said Malfoy was some kind of big, famous Potions Master now – his shop was full to the brim with people grabbing potions off shelves, pushing and shoving at each other to get to them. He swallowed, looking up at the pompous, shining letters that spelled out the name to Malfoy’s shop.

He snorted, looking across the road at _Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes_ , still standing proudly opposite. Malfoy certainly had guts; Harry had to admit, buying the shop opposite the Weasleys’. He remembered just vaguely that Ron had been absolutely furious at the time but had soon calmed down, talking about all the extra customers Malfoy was bringing in. Apparently his clientele came from all around the world. Harry hadn’t cared much at the time but looking at them all now he could feel his trepidation rising. 

Malfoy would probably be too busy to deal with him. 

And wasn’t that an irritating thought? Malfoy too busy to deal with _him_? 

Setting his shoulders Harry took a steadying breath before reaching out and pushing open the purple door in front of him. 

There was only the tinkle of the bell above the door to announce his presence and even that went unnoticed in the general raucous around the store. Keeping his head down and hoping no one would notice Harry soon tired of people stepping on his toes and elbowing him in the stomach so he stepped away from the crowd, finding himself in a quiet corner of the store. 

Sighing in relief Harry browsed the shelves’ around him, a blush soon spreading over his cheeks when he realised exactly why this section of the shop was void of people. The potions around him were all about sex. 

Well, this was what he’d wanted wasn’t it? Taking a quick look behind him to make sure no one noticed Harry quickly began scanning the shelves, brow furrowing at all the names. He recognised some of them from the WonderWitch line the Weasleys’ sold – and there was the Swelling Solution he’d made in his second year, no guesses as to what that was used for – but most of them were unfamiliar. Some of the names were downright disturbing: ‘The Dominatrix Potion – Get in touch with your inner Master!’ and the ‘Servitude Solution - One step to the perfect Sub’. Harry quickly passed those by although he did linger by the ‘Auctuserum – Guaranteed to add inches!’ 

Feeling more and more flustered Harry began skimming over the last of the potions, trying to ignore the crowd behind him. 

He became so caught up in his search that he almost didn’t notice when someone poked his shoulder. When it came again he pivoted on one foot, wand out and pointing at Draco Malfoy who stood with his arms folded, smirk pasted on his face. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t Potter. And what brings you to my corner of Diagon Alley?” 

“Uhr…” Harry trailed off, realising that every head in the shop had turned towards them, eager ears open and listening to the exchange. 

He could feel a blush spreading across his face and his hand clenched tighter around his wand in response. “I…er…”

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow. “You…er…what? Spit it out Potter.” 

Harry swallowed before lowering his wand, taking a step towards Malfoy and leaning towards him, “Can we go somewhere a bit quieter?” He whispered to the other man who stared back at him with a mixture of amusement and confusion. 

In the end he shrugged and gestured with his thumb over one shoulder, “Of course, anything for the Great Potter, if you’ll follow me…” And he turned around, cloak flaring out dramatically behind him and led Harry behind the counter towards the back of his shop.

Harry rolled his eyes at the display but quickly followed – anything to get away from the eyes that even now devoured his every movement. He shuddered as he slipped past the door Malfoy held open for him. The door slammed shut behind him and plunged the room into darkness until Malfoy uttered a word and lamps suddenly sprung into life. 

The room was small – it was more a storage room filled to the brim with potion bottles. There was a table in the middle of it all and two chairs, one looking much the worse for wear, Malfoy claimed the better one, leaving the other for Harry to gingerly rest on. It creaked under his weight and Harry tensed, waiting for it to collapse beneath him but it held. 

“So, Potter…” Malfoy prompted him, making Harry look up and start at the look Malfoy was giving him. It was almost…appreciative? Wait – no, Malfoy wasn’t was he? No, Malfoy was definitely not _checking him out_ , clearly the lack of proper sleep was getting to him. 

Coughing into one fist Harry tried to concentrate on the matter at hand. “I…uhr…need a potion.” 

“Yes?” Malfoy replied, leaning forward with a look of interest. “And you came to my shop? Why not visit J. Pippin’s Potions, or Mr. Mullpepper’s Apothecary down the road? You could have even ordered from E.M.L. Potions – but you chose me. Why?”

Harry could feel the blush that had just begun to fade come back full force in the face of Malfoy’s questions. “Ron suggested it,” he muttered. 

The glee in Malfoy’s face was clear for all to see, he could have been laughing in Harry’s face and it would have had the same effect. Scowling at him Harry tried to stop grinding his teeth and just get it all over and done with. 

“So, I need a potion.” God this was hard. He battled with himself a moment more before finally spitting it out, “I want to get rid of some dreams I’ve been having.” 

Malfoy lifted one eyebrow, “Well, I’m sure a standard Dreamless Sleep Potion would work—”

Harry cut him off, “Not those…kind of dreams. They happen even when I’m daydreaming. It’s…” Fuck it. “I’m dreaming about sex.” 

If Malfoy’s eyes got any bigger Harry was going to reach over and poke them out with his wand. Didn’t the prat hear things like this all the time? And just when the hell did Malfoy’s shoulders look so bloody good in that robe of his? 

Ruthlessly tearing his mind away from that subject, far _far_ away Harry watched as Malfoy’s mouth opened and closed several times before settling into that all-familiar smirk. 

“You want a potion to get rid of wet dreams Potter? What are you, twelve?”

Harry stood abruptly, his chair scraping back with the movement. “Fuck you Malfoy,” he said, turning and making for the door. 

He stopped when Malfoy grabbed his arm. A shot of lust swept through him and then—he wasn’t sure how—but he had Malfoy pushed up against the door with his mouth pressing demandingly against Malfoy’s, wanting—needing—entrance. Malfoy finally opened and Harry moaned into his mouth, thrusting his tongue in and tasting mint and lemon and _Malfoy_ and…and shit.

Jumping back Harry brought a hand to his mouth, staring at a rather ruffled looking Malfoy with an expression of absolute shock. 

_What the fuck had he just done?_

Malfoy wasn’t looking at him though, he was busy fussing with his clothing, straightening out the wrinkles Harry had made when he’d grabbed the other man’s shoulders and _pushed him into a wall_. 

Dear God, what kind of sex-starved animal was he?

“God Malfoy, I’m so—”

“I do believe you’re right Potter,” Malfoy replied, finally raising his eyes. Harry was struck by the sight of them. 

He’d been wrong in his dreams. Malfoy’s eyes didn’t glaze over—they _blazed_ with lust and Harry wanted to be so desperately near their warmth that he couldn’t stop himself from taking one step forward.

Malfoy matched him, grabbing Harry by his shirt collar and pulling him in. An arm came up, wrapping itself around his waist and aligning their bodies together. Harry groaned—a sound that was soon swallowed by Malfoy’s mouth. 

Then it was all slick, wet _heat_ and panting and _God_ where did Malfoy learn to do that with his tongue? 

Harry grunted, pulling his head back and trying to gain some distance. “What—” He swallowed, “Malfoy we can’t do this.” 

“I beg to differ—this is, after all, the only solution to your problem.” 

“But—but I’ve been having these dreams of you!” Harry finally shouted, right in Malfoy’s face so he wouldn’t miss it. 

Malfoy merely smirked again and his hand, which had previously been resting in the small of Harry’s back, began moving downwards until it grasped Harry’s arse, pulling him in closer again. He tilted his head to the side, his breath down Harry’s neck making him shiver. 

“I wasn’t supposed to work,” he said, pressing small kisses downwards, tonguing the dip where Harry’s neck met his shoulder. 

“You—” Harry panted, “What would work?”

“The potion I put in your coffee,” Malfoy explained, matter-of-factly as he nipped delicately at the skin there. 

Harry’s brain shrieked at him that those words were just wrong but another part of him, a part that he suspected was very much attached to his cock, was telling it to fuck off somewhere. 

“You—” Harry bit off the moan he could feel developing as Malfoy started to undo the buttons of his shirt, kissing every bit of skin revealed. “You put a potion in my _coffee_?!” 

Malfoy made a humming noise against his skin, the vibrations somehow making its way directly to Harry’s cock and he decided to give up thinking for a bit. Later—much later when everything was over—he’d think about the fact that Malfoy had somehow poisoned him. Now though—now he grabbed Malfoy’s head, pulling him up and kissing him with all the unspent passion he’d been saving up the past week. Their tongues slid together and when Harry pulled back to take a breath he could see the thin trail of saliva between them. 

He should have been freaking out—that part of his brain that kept saying something wrong definitely was—but he felt strangely calm. Hell, he was more turned on than he’d ever been in his life—but it felt right to grab the edges of Malfoy’s robes and pull it off him, to grab the hem of shirt and yank it over his head. 

He bent his head, letting his tongue flick over Malfoy’s nipple. The moans he heard encouraged him to lick more and then he grabbed it between his teeth and tugged, just a little and Malfoy was yanking on his hair, jamming their mouths together so desperately that their teeth clanked together.

Harry winced but didn’t let go, just pulled tighter until Malfoy was plastered against him, their bare skin touching for the first time. 

When Malfoy managed to get his hand down Harry’s trousers he almost came—right then before Malfoy had even touched him but then there was a hand around his cock and his boxers were around his ankles and he was thrusting into Malfoy’s hands.

“Like that Potter?” Malfoy panted against his neck which was kind of distracting but then Malfoy’s hand twisted and Harry threw his head back, his knees buckling from the effort of remaining upright. 

Malfoy, probably sensing his imminent collapse, pushed him back until his bare thighs were touching the table, his arse right on the edge. Taking his hand off his cock—how _fucking_ dare he—Malfoy pushed until Harry managed to seat himself on the table, Malfoy settling between his thighs, leaning against him. 

“You want this don’t you Harry?”

Harry wasn’t sure whether it was his name or Malfoy’s sudden god-like skill with his hands but he was mindlessly nodding before he knew it, not minding in the least when Malfoy—Draco—pulled back, grabbing some vial from a nearby shelf and pouring it out onto his hand.

That hand soon trailed down Harry’s thigh and it was cool and hot and Harry could feel himself burning up but then Malfoy’s finger was circling around the tight ring of his arse and he could almost feel himself twitching. 

“God you prat, just do it already,” he groaned, grabbing hold of Malfoy’s shoulders for leverage as he thrust himself against that finger. 

Another entered, and another but Harry didn’t care, too lost in sensation because Malfoy was stroking him inside and out and his eyes promised all number of decadent things and—and his cock was at Harry’s entrance and pushing _pushing_ and Harry let him, his head falling back and Malfoy’s lips were there instantly, biting at the exposed skin, tonguing the sore areas and his cock was inside, so deep, too deep. 

They moved—or Malfoy moved and Harry followed—and Harry was moaning now, stupid donkey sounds or not—and Malfoy was panting hot breaths of air against his neck and he didn’t think he’d ever experienced a more erotic moment in his life. 

He came all over Malfoy’s stomach which he thought was only fair. His head spun and he was shaking with effort but _fuck_ that had been good.

And he was so, so screwed. 

He didn’t wait for Malfoy to say anything—as soon as the other man had pulled out and opened his mouth Harry clapped his hand over it, effectively shutting him up.

“I don’t want to hear a thing you say Malfoy—that was…you’re disgusting,” he grimaced, pulling his hand away and bending it to wipe on Malfoy’s cloak. Grabbing his clothes he got dressed, resolutely keeping his eyes off Malfoy and turned to leave. When he got to the door he paused, his hand shaking as he reached out to grab the door handle. 

“Just…stay away from me,” he finally choked out, pulling the door open and racing out of the store.

* * *

The next morning he received a potion with the words ‘Antidote’ on the side. He had it checked out at the Ministry and when they gave it the all clear he swallowed it all in one go. 

After that the next few days passed in a kind of daze for Harry. He went to work, came home and collapsed into his bed, woke up the next day and did it all over again. He went through the motions, calling his friends, handing in his assignments, doing paperwork but when he finally stopped he couldn’t remember any of it. 

He was sitting at his kitchen table, staring dumbly at toast he couldn’t remember making when the owl crashed into his window. 

It startled him enough that he jolted out of his chair, going to the window and opening it cautiously, wand out and checking for curses and hexes before the owl had even entered. When everything seemed clear he stood back, letting the owl drop the letter it held on his table. He offered it a piece of toast and the owl gladly grabbed it before it went, leaving a shower of feathers on his floor. 

Harry knew who the letter would be for before he even cracked the seal. The intricate ‘M’ was all too telling – so pompous and elegant it could only belong to one person. Well, three persons but only one would write to him. 

He argued with himself briefly, part of him wanting to just eviscerate the damn thing, another part needing to know why. Why had the git done it…why Harry? Just to humiliate or…Harry bit off a curse, ripping open the envelope and spreading the letter out before him.

_’Dear Potter,_

_The first thing I want to say really is this: I’m sorry.’_

Harry almost stopped then, laughter bubbling up inside him. It came out slightly hysterical and the letter shook in his hand before he could bring himself under control again. Shaking his head slightly at the mere idea – Draco Malfoy could actually _apologise_? – Harry read on. 

_’When I visited you at the Ministry that day I had no intention of putting the potion in your coffee. Please believe me when I say that I only meant to get it tested. I happened upon you in your office and you looked…well, miserable. You looked like I did just after the war. When Granger called you and you left I couldn’t resist._

_I never meant for it to go as far as it did. When I had the potion tested they insisted it was useless so I put the whole thing behind me, labelling it a failure and a mistake. If I had realised you were suffering I would have immediately given you the antidote._

_Even though I started this letter with an apology there is one thing I am not sorry about. You may never want to think of me again Potter but I will think of you every night – in my dreams and when I’m awake. I will always remember your face when you come, when I put my lips on you, the way you sound._

_So, there. I’m sorry for putting you through such an ordeal but I’m not sorry with the outcome._

_Yours,_

_Draco.’_

Harry couldn’t tear his eyes away from the letter, scanning every little word. Malfoy… _Malfoy_ off all people had known he was upset? And had done something about it – oh, he’d been wrong without a doubt and Harry would definitely call him out on it. But – but that last bit – _Yours, Draco._

He let the letter float to the floor as he raced to grab his cloak, slamming the door shut on his way out. He was going to see Malfoy. The only way they’d ever be able to resolve this was face to face.

* * *

“What you did was wrong,” Harry said. 

Malfoy was looking over at him with a guarded expression. Harry had managed to catch him just as the shop was closing and had made Malfoy grant him entrance. They stood on opposite sides of the counter now, Harry leaning forwards slightly and Malfoy looking like a caged rabbit. 

“I know,” he finally said quietly. 

“But I’m not angry.”

“You—you’re not?” Malfoy looked stunned and Harry tried his best not to laugh in his face.

He shrugged instead, trying to sound more carefree than he felt when he replied, “Yeah. I mean, sure, I was furious with you at first but then—I mean—it was only a few wet dreams.”

“And sex.”

“The sex was really my fault,” Harry replied, putting his hand up when Malfoy went to correct him. “I was the one who attacked you first.”

“You were out of your mind with lust!” Malfoy interjected, looking slightly annoyed when Harry reached out his hand to shut him up. He made a few muffling noises behind his hand but Harry just grinned at him. 

“The way I figure it – you owe me.” Malfoy made another outraged sound that Harry could only just barely make out sounded like ‘Fuck you Potter’. 

It just made him smile wider and he pulled his hand away before he spoke. “You owe me a weeks worth of really good sex. Hell, more than that. You owe me a lifetime’s worth of sex.”

Malfoy’s mouth dropped open and Harry could really think of better ways for it to be used than as a fly-catcher. 

“This isn’t going to work…” Malfoy finally said, still looking unsure, his eyes darting around, looking anywhere but at Harry. 

“Oh stuff it,” Harry finally bit out, having had quite enough of that and grabbing Malfoy’s head, pulling him forward until their lips were touching. 

They parted bare moments later, Malfoy’s lips twitching just slightly and Harry grinning back at him. “We’ll make it work.” 

“But what if—”

“What if you cock up again?” Harry asked, watching as Malfoy’s ears turned a bit red. “Then you can make it up to me – you’re quite good at apologising after all.”

And with that he pulled Malfoy forward again, and this time Malfoy kissed him back and Harry had a brief thought that _‘maybe this might just work’_ before it was blotted out with _‘fuck, this will work’_ and _‘Malfoy’s a damn good kisser.’_

And if he had anymore sex dreams in the future…well Malfoy would be there now to help him afterwards – and more. Harry would make sure of it. The prat owed him after all. And Harry liked to call in his debts. 

_The End._


End file.
